8. 여덟 ‘yeodolb’
I still wish my parents coming today was nothing but a joke, but the dress I have hanging on my wardrobe’s door says otherwise.
Dresses…I don’t dislike them, but I rarely use them. When I was younger, I did all the time, but since I’ve become this spiral mess of a person, I stopped. It’s funny to think that my body hasn’t changed much since I last wore one, but I’m so much different. The body I once liked, and didn’t have a problem showing, is now covered by layers of clothes.
I turn my back to the mattress and stare at the ceiling. I know becoming self-conscious about my body because of my childhood isn’t the only reason for me to want to come by unnoticed. But I still don’t remember the reason.
Why can’t I remember that night?
I shake off my thoughts and get up. The day is stressful enough without me adding more to it. I walk to Elisa’s room and knock to wake her up.
Today we’re getting up earlier since we have no idea when they are coming. Last time they came even before I went to work, and we were still in pyjamas—let’s not mention my mother’s reaction—but the time before that they only showed up after I closed the shop. It’s always a gamble with them.
‘I’m up, I’m up,’ Elisa says as I knock on her door for the third time.
She comes out to go take a shower, and I can see how tired she is.
‘You went to bed late?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’ Her mouth opens, and she covers it with her hand, but not before it affects me. ‘I was working on a website.’
I finish my yawn and nod.
Elisa does all types of work involving coding. I call her a coding genius because multiple big companies have tried to get her working exclusively for them, but she says she prefers to be a freelancer—this way she’s not stuck to one place and can work for everybody. She also receives more by doing that since her time is constantly at auction for the highest bidder.
I’ve asked her multiple times why she still lives here with me if she has so much money, and her answer is always the same: This little house and you are my home; you keep me grounded.
As soon as we finish getting ready and I grab my purse to walk towards the exit, the doorbell rings. Elisa and I swiftly look at each other, eyes widened.
I peek through the little hole in the door and give a thumb up to my flatmate. It’s my parents.
I’m not religious, but I pray for this day to go fast and well.
I open the door, and they get themselves inside without a single word.
‘Good morning mum, dad,’ I say.
‘Honey, we missed you.’ My mother smiles, her long, perfectly curled brown hair more still than a statue.
This is a surprise. I furrow my eyebrows at my flatmate.
‘So, what are you doing here?’ I ask, trying to understand what is going on. They are never this friendly, not my mum, at least.
‘Well, we just wanted to come visit our precious child and her best friend,’ she says. ‘How are you, Elisa?’
I glance at my father, whose eyes are distant as always, but it’s the smile on my mother’s face that twirls my insides. Nothing good ever happens when she smiles.
‘I’m good, thank you,’ Elisa says.
‘Were you leaving?’ my dad asks, pointing at my purse already around my arm.
‘Hmm…yes…I was on my way to the bakery.’
‘Then we shall go. Goodbye, Elisa. We’ll see you later tonight. Let’s have dinner together.’
They walk fast to the lift, where I follow, but remain silent until we reach the shop. During the first hour of work, they leave me alone, conversing with one another.
*What’s going on?* Elisa texts me. *They are acting so strange.*
*When this happens, it can only mean one thing. They have news, and not the good kind.* I write.
*OMG, what if you are gonna have a sibling?* I laugh at her text .
*Hilarious. First, I think my mum is way past her fertile window and second, even if she’s still there, I’m sure she had a tubal ligation after she had me. Hahaha*
*I’m sure we’ll find out at dinner, but in the meantime they are freaking me out.* I hit send before putting my phone away to keep working.
When the shop slows down a bit and my parents get bored with looking at the flies, my mum turns to me. ‘You know, honey, I could tell some of my friends to come to this bakery so you have more clients. This could become the Elite’s bakery, after some remodelling, of course, but for that I can give you the contact of an interior designer friend of—’
‘No thank you, I have enough clients and I like the decorations.’ Now that’s the person I know, the one who can’t keep herself out of other people’s business. It took long enough.
‘Veronica, leave it. We want a good day, right?’ my father asks.
‘As you wish.’ My mum purses her red lips.
They want a good day? That can’t be good.
‘Well, honey, we are going to meet some friends for lunch. We’ll get to your house before dinner to discuss some things,’ Mrs Scott says before the sound of her heels fades away.
I close up for lunch hour and go to the post office to see if I’ve received a letter. I don’t know if Daldust is one of those people who writes right away when they receive a letter or waits a while, but it’s better to go there than to be trying to figure out how dinner will go tonight.
When I open my postbox, I see a grey envelope like last time and smile. He sent me a letter.
I want to open it now, but something inside me tells me to leave it for later, and so I do. Back at the shop, I grab my phone to order food. I love Greener’s , but today I want to vary and eat in the same beautiful place I’m able to call mine.
***
‘Are you ready to leave?’ Elisa asks, paying for the muffin she treated herself with for this stressful day.
‘Yeah, I just need to close up,’ I say.
‘Do you already know what you are cooking?’ she asks.
‘Yes, my dad asked me to make my mum’s favourite dish, which is still a surprise for me, since she is all fancy and mighty and the dish is so simple.’ I look out the window, watching all the other shop owners eager to close their shops at seven on Fridays. Today I’m closing an hour earlier.
This street gets deserted after that until eleven, when the pubs open.
‘So…what is it?’ my best friend gesticulates impatiently.
‘Right, sorry, it’s carbonara.’
‘Mmh, delicious,’ she says, licking her lips, and I chuckle.
We get home and take turns getting ready and preparing dinner. First, I shower while Elisa chops the ingredients and sets the table ready. Then, while she’s inside the loo, I cook.
The doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat. I look at the clock: it’s seven. My parents usually come only half an hour earlier, but they are so unpredictable that you never know.
I leave the pan on low heat and go open the door.
The two people who stare back at me on the other side of the door’s frame get my thoughts to falter for a second.
‘Elijah, Moon Hee…What are you doing here?’ I ask.
They stay another moment mutedly staring. Do I have something on my face? My hands tremble a bit.
‘Fuck, Lilah…’ Elijah breaks the silence. ‘You look…bloody amazing.’
My eyes glance down at my baby blue dress and I tug my hands on the hem, pulling it down. That’s right, they’ve never seen me in a dress.
I bring my gaze back up, unable to speak, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
I remember I have the food on the stove and signal them to come in.
‘We just came to see if you girls needed any help, but it seems like you have everything handled.’ He looks around while I turn off the stove.
‘Cut the rubbish, Elijah.’ Elisa surprises us, coming into the kitchen. ‘I know you came to see Lilah’s parents.’
‘Fine, I’m curious.’ He raises both hands at her.
Moon Hee hasn’t said a word, but I catch him looking at me a few times while everybody talks.
‘Well, we don’t need your help, and you won’t meet my parents,’ I say too late. Before I speak the last word, the doorbell rings, and this time, I’m sure it’s them.
Bloody hell.
Elisa leaves to open the door. I hear my mother’s voice echoing through the house the moment the door closes.
Thankfully the food is ready, so at least we won’t have to wait any longer than needed to eat.
‘Lilah, honey, who are these men? Is one of them your boyfriend?’ my mum asks as soon as we walk to the hall to meet them.
This is why I didn’t want them to come.
‘I’m hoping not,’ she adds, looking at Elijah’s tattoo-covered arms.
‘They are just friends, but what if I dated one of them? What’s the problem with that?’ I frown, trying to not raise my voice. Keyword: trying .
‘Oh honey, you should know girls and boys can’t be just friends. It never works out. And tattoos aren’t elegant, you know that.’ Her contemptuous look makes my blood boil.
‘We are just friends, and tattoos are art, beautiful art. They are also great people and you shouldn’t judge someone based on whether they have tattoos or not,’ I say, trying to keep my voice calm in front of them, but I know I’m bound to explode at any moment.
‘I’m not judging their character—’
‘No, you are judging their looks, like you always do.’ I’m not in the mood to hear any excuse she was going to give next, so I enter the kitchen and place the food on the table.
I decide to walk back to them to say the food is ready when I hear Elijah speaking, making me stop at the living room’s entrance, his back turned to me.
‘Actually, I am interested in your daughter,’ he says, and they look at him surprised. I do too.
When I move closer to them—and he sees me—he adds, ‘We were leaving when you arrived anyway, but feel free to stop by my parlour if you ever want to become less elegant,’ giving my mother his card and winking before leaving.
I have to be honest; I enjoyed that way too much. He was so subtle with his disdain that he not only left me but my mum speechless. I’d never seen that side of Elijah.
‘Let’s go eat before the food gets cold,’ I say.
The four of us sit at the table and begin eating in silence. My dad tries to break the ice a few times, but it stays intact.
My parents’ visits are always energy draining. My mum usually finds something in me to criticise, and although I don’t like it—when it’s about me I can stand it—but when she attacks people I care about, it hits me harder.
One time she said something to Elisa about her hair, and even though she withstood it, I could see it affected her. I went off on my mother that day and she never said a word that wasn’t kind to Elisa ever since. But now she did it again and it pisses me off how clueless she can be—or pretends to be.
Words hurt more than a punch. Just because you can’t see the bruise doesn’t mean it didn’t open a wound. Emotional scars take longer to heal than physical ones, and I wish she would learn that.
My father is more careful with his words, but he allows my mum to act like that, and to me, a bystander can be as guilty as the direct offender.
‘What was the big news you wanted to share?’ I ask.
‘Your dad and I are moving to Beverly Hills,’ my mum says, her brown eyes glimmering.
‘Beverly Hills, LA? As in the United States? The other side of the ocean?’ My eyes widen, trying to wrap my mind around it.
‘Yes, honey.’ She gives me that unnerving smile. ‘Since you are no longer little and there is really nothing for us here anymore, your father and I want a change of scenery.’
‘Since I’m no longer little…there’s nothing for you left here…’ I repeat, my voice low, looking at my fresh plate of carbonara.
‘Well, that’s great, Mrs and Mr Scott. I’m happy for you,’ Elisa says, trying to calm the very dense cloud of rage growing above me.
‘Thank you dear,’ my mum says. ‘I thought you’d be happy for us, Lilah.’
‘Happy that you are going away? For good?’ My eyes fog as the water grows on them. ‘I should be…but for some reason, I’m not.’
‘We’ll visit regularly. Our business is still here, and we have video calls now,’ my dad says, caressing my mother’s hand.
I’ve always questioned why he comforts her, when I’m the one who needs comfort.
‘The same video calls you never make, even when we are in the same city? Visit?’ I grimace. ‘When? You barely visit now. When you go, you won’t come back; I know that. You said it yourself: you have nothing here left for you.’
I get up and right before leaving the room I add, ‘Have a safe trip.’
I leave the flat and walk upstairs to the roof, my feet fast but stumpy, my lips pursed and tears fleeing the safe space of my waterline.
The soft breeze brushes my face and I close my eyes, trying to understand why the thought of them leaving is crushing my heart. They’ve been a fleeting presence my whole life, but I knew they would always return, if not for me but for their home.
Elisa’s words last time she took me to the roof echo in my head. So, I do it. I scream like it’s the last time my mouth is going to make a sound.
As soon as I finish, my flatmate arrives next to me.
‘I thought I’d find you here,’ she says.
‘You were right.’ I glance at her. ‘It does feel good.’
‘I’m sorry, Lilah.’ She rubs my shoulder.
‘It’s not the fact that I’ll see them less; I barely saw them anyway. It’s the fact that they are slipping further and further away.’ I collapse on the floor, releasing all the emotion left from the scream.
‘I know.’ Elisa sits down next to me, trying to comfort the girl who questions why nobody can love her, not even her own parents.